I don't think that I, North Italy, actually have kept any part of my heart for myself.
Thirteen percent went to Grandpa Rome.
Twelve went to my brother, South Italy.
Eight percent went to sweet Hungary.
But the last sixty-seven percent, that went to a very special person; a person I could never forget; somebody who I barely understood, but I loved all the same. That person was the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation.
He was always so elusive, but I always found myself blushing when I was around him.
I cried for ages when I found out he was dead after the Wars of Religion. I had waited thirty years for him to come back to get me at Austria's house, but Hungary brought me the news and waited while I cried my little heart out.
I grew up after that.
It wasn't until World War I when you found me. I always saw you at the World Meetings, but I never thought anything of it. You were just another country that was around for a long time.
When you found me in that tomato crate, I knew right away who you were, even if you didn't know me.
I heard the rumor: you were my beloved Holy Roman Empire and you just had amnesia, but I had no way to prove it.
How could someone that was so loving to me turn into the cold-hearted country that exists today?
My bother says I'm crazy; but, he doesn't know the real Germany that I know.
I know that there is a part of you that remembers me from back when we were children and that is the reason why you put up with me and my antics. I know I'm annoying sometimes, but you are the only one that still finds my antics cute.
You stole sixty-seven percent of my heart, Germany, and please, keep it for forever; I don't ever want to give it to someone else.